Moving On
by KeepsAwayTheNargles
Summary: George and Angelina are the only people who understand each other, so they marry and try to make a life beyond the second wizarding world. Angelina Is with child, and the only thing keeping them from being a happy and loving family, Is both of their Inabilities to move on from the loss of Fred


Hi readers :) I'm back again with another story, this one about George/Angelina! I'll let you know now most of this story was written In first person because I just couldn't unlock the grief required to write this without getting Inside George's head a little bit.

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My greatest strength has always been being happy and smiling, because I knew that I had and still have the best friend I could ever ask for, and that's all I'll ever need. As long as I have someone by my side, constantly getting up to trouble and making people laugh with me, my personality is quite simple; all I ever need to do is make other people laugh, so that in turn I could be happy.

This catharsis though, the complete and utter desolation that I'm feeling right now is eating away at me, and I am forever restless. The wrinkles in my face are smoother from frowning, and no longer do I have laugh lines where they were before. I just can't find the strength to feel joy anymore. In everything I do, I'm apathetic. What can I do?

I wish you were here, Fred, because I'm weak, and overcoming this hardship is difficult. Where ever you are, I hope you're happy, because you got the lucky end of the stick. I sit and point my wand at the water and use a heating spell, the steamy wisps that float and swirl above me suit my mood, and when I'm just sinking into oblivion, zoned out of the real world I snap back in pain. An angry red blister swelling where I accidently burnt myself. Finality sinking in, and I realize that I can't waste away and let myself drown or get hurt and die this way. What a poor representation of my brothers life, he would never have chosen to die in battle, that wasn't his style. Wasting away on depressing thoughts isn't my style either, and I hate how I've lost myself.

I've had enough of this. I love you, Fred, but I can't live feeling this way, and that's final.

"Hey George, are you alright? I thought I heard something outside the window. Was that you?" Angelina asked cautiously, the wind breeze picking up her hair. Evening was falling, and the air was getting crisper.

"Yeah, I was just skipping a rock, that's all ..." I pulled my shirtsleeves over my hands and crossed my arms. The ducks in the distance about twenty feet away started to make irritating quack noises.

Angelina chuckled. "I think it sounded more like you were just chucking rocks at the annoying ducks, but anyway, do you want to talk?" She went over and sat at the small bench they had out by their pond and patted the spot next to her. "Is this about Fred?"

I hesitated. I know Angelina hates when I talk about Fred. She had a crush on him too, and I have to remember that I'm not the only one who suffers from loss.

"It seems like it's always about Fred, isn't it?" I turn to look at her gentle face; Angelina was always there to talk with me, a great and loyal friend.

The reason why we work so well together isn't because we love each other so much (even if we do) it's that we listen to what the other has to say, and even if we have no input we each can be comforted in the fact that we have mutual concern and support for another.

The wind blows even harder than before and I smell the rain in the air, knowing that a dreary storm was about to hit.

"Yes, it does seem that way. I think that whatever we do, nothing will take the pain away. He was the most vital person in each of our lives, and I think were he alive today, neither of us would be together. We are only here because of one mutual pain, and so in order to move past this continual hurt that we harbor, we might be torn apart, and George? I love you."

I hate to be the harbinger of sad news, but the truth weighs more heavily in the situation presented, "I know that we love each other a lot, and that's what will keep us strong. I need to move on; I can't feel this anymore. In fact, I can't feel anything at all and that's the point. I'm ready to live again, I mean here I am, mulling over a dead person, who's probably up in heaven playing practical jokes on Merlin! It's not me who should be mourning, but Fred should be mourning me, for I did not die with him!"

I try as hard as I can to stop the tears from coming fresh, a waterfall over my freckles. My lip quivers and I cover my face with my hands.

"C'mon George, let's go inside and talk some more where it's less cold. I'll make you a cup of tea, and we'll put Celestina Warbeck on the wireless." Angelina pulls me up and takes my hand.

Once inside the dim kitchen area, I take a seat at the wood-polished island. Our small little two bedroom house wasn't anything special, especially the kitchen, with its baby blue wallpaper that peels. Certainly not great, because the marble flooring was cracked in several places. No one could raise a child here, and I'm afraid we didn't know what we were doing about the living room with a fireplace. This place is a danger to a baby, and we'll have to make an upgrade soon, which calls for a lot of money. I may have to dip into our winnings money. Would Fred be okay with that? Would he care about the money if I was spending it on his soon to be niece?

Angelina and I were just enjoying the comfortable silence, but the wail of the teapot interrupted our pondering.

"Here," She handed me a cup. "Now George, if we can agree to both try and move on … How do you suppose we find closure?"

A quiet voice comes out of me, and it's not my own, it was of someone who was frightened, "The only way I know how is to just stop blaming myself. Only, if I stop blaming myself for Fred's death …. I can only blame someone else."

"And who would you blame?" She looks down at her own feet.

"Fred. Why didn't he defend himself better? He knew the spells! Why didn't he use the DA coin to send me a message? It was in his pocket! If I move on, I'll be the angriest and most bitter person anyone has ever known. I can't be myself without him …. I haven't told a joke in years."

Angelina reaches over and takes my hand and rubs it for comfort, and to tell you the truth, it helps a little.

"Yes, I know what you mean. To have absolute closure though, I think we need to visit his grave. It's not healthy that both of us have never been. It seems like an insult to his memory now."

She gets up and goes to the calendar, and marks it May 2nd. Fred's anniversary is tomorrow.

I get up and go to the couch, grab a blanket and lay down, "I'm tired. Today has been just a little too much for me, and wow, that's saying something."

Angelina smiles widely, "You made a joke, it may have been a stale joke, but that was humor."

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Angelina lies down beside George on the large couch and holds tight, if she lets go, he may not wake sane enough. This was just one of his more clear days; tomorrow he won't remember a thing.

Fin


End file.
